Those Who Would Be Among the Stars
by dreamstyler
Summary: When Nyota leaves Iowa for Starfleet, she has no idea how a half-Vulcan will change her life and how she will change his. Lots of character development. Chapter Four of a second-parter is up.
1. The Goal in Sight

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Star Trek, Paramount, or Viacom. I am only referencing the Star Trek 2009 movie and the accompanying audio book for the purpose of this fanfic and showing my appreciation for it. **

**A/N: This fanfic starts in Iowa, before Nyota Uhura leaves for Starfleet, following the plot of the movie.**

**The purpose of this story is to more fully intergrate the main characters. But it will be mainly about Spock and Nyota. Have patience while I work this out.**

**My Spock (if only he really was mine) will be infused with a mental cheekyness of my first posting. "The Logical Connection". I hope I can successfully maintain that.**

**I was not happy with the rushed feel of that story so I may incorporate some of it into this story. Especially the dialog between the two.**

**Pardon me in advance for any grammatical errors or misspelling. If it gets to be a problem, I will employ the services of a beta reader. If anyone would like to volunteer, please, let me know.**

**Those Who Would Be Among the Stars**

**IOWA Stardate 2255:**

The Mardon Military base was solely for the purpose of recruitment and deployment. Its massive size allowed for the effective movement of equipment from the smallest component to the entirety of a starship. As for manpower, hundreds of potential recruits and personnel could be shuttled to and from the various installations around the world. In particular, those that were gifted, with aspirations to be among the stars, were sent from this place, to Starfleet Academy in San Francisco.

The goal of many on their way to Starfleet was the object that dominated the horizon over the rolling hills and lowlying vegetation of the terrain. One could not help from being awestruck at seeing the ship called the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ under construction in the shipyard.

Throughout the day, builders and engineers buzzed about its titanium hull--disc-shaped at the top with a propulsion nacelle on either side. The steam that rose beneath it made it look as though it was no longer tethered to the ground but was already among the clouds. At night, against the clear, starry, Iowan sky, one could envision her on her maiden voyage. And because the cool air was always filled with dust and grit, the ship was encased in an etheral-like screen that made the ship look as though it was surrounded in a Nebulas cloud and the lights that illuminated it, as star clusters. She was a beautiful sight to behold even in this unfinished state. Only a lucky few would make the wonderous flagship their home.

***

Tonight, Nyota Uhura was determined to relax and have a couple of drinks with a few of her fellow cadets. She wished that she didn't have to wear her conspicuous, red Starfleet uniform. Anytime cadets ventured offbase to the nearby town of Storm Lake, they were required to wear them. The tunic and skirt did cling to all the right places on her slim frame and where the garment ended it showed the smoothness of her brown skin. The length of the skirt accentuated her long legs as well as the regulation black boots, she wore. To the attention from males and on occasion from females and alien species, she was no shrinking violet. She was once called an African Violet when some guy found out she was from the United States of Africa. The attention was sometimes welcomed but oft-times it was distracting.

She tugged at the hem of her skirt, in a vain attempt to cover more of her thighs, as she sat down on a seat in the hoverbus.

The hoverbus was packed, with every seat filled and some unfortunates having to stand. Her crowd tried to sit as close to one another. She had positioned herself by the window and shared a seat with Cadet Jing. Once the hoverbus was underway, everyone for the most part was orderly as military training dictated. Their murmurs were barely audible over the engine. But the closer to the gate the bus approached, the quieter the bus got. There seem to be a collective holding of breath, causing Uhura to do the same. Seconds after the bus cleared the threshold of the base, mass rowdyness ensued.

It was a special night. This was the last night some of these cadets will be at MMB. Uhura, too, was caught up in the exuberance. However, she was not going to allow herself to get wasted. She never drank that much anyway. The plan was to down one strong drink to start with then nurse a milder one the rest of the night. She would have to rebuff guys that would try to buy her drinks. Her mind was on a mission to remain clearheaded, say goodbye to some of her friends and catch the shuttle out of Iowa, in the morning.

Tomorrow, at 0800 hours she would have to report to Moore shuttle for her flight to Starfleet. Her duffle-bag as already packed and ready to go, by her bunk.

Uhura felt more excited than nervous. It was unlike what she felt leaving home to arrive at MMB. Her mother had kept crying and hugging her before she had to get on the plane, telling her that if she wasn't happy with her decision, she could always come back home. Her father, on the other hand, tried to mask his worry but his eyes always betrayed him. He gave her a quick hug and passed her a handful of credits. _"Here, Star, you may need more money for any little odds and ends."_ She had grown perceptive to seeing through her father's reserve by reading his eyes. Through those orbs, she had seen a wide range of emotions but now they were just shaded with sadness. _"Don't worry for me, Mama, Baba." "I will be okay."_ she said to try to reassure them as she flung her satchel over one shoulder and looked back at them over the other. They would still worry but they would have to get used to her journeying from one place to another.

She was excited to be going to San Francisco. The place would offer unlimited possibilities. The city was renowned for its classical music. She was looking forward to some proper vegetarian food. _"Oooh! There will be take out."_ She missed take out. All of which was not far from Starfleet. Hopefully, she would have the time to enjoy some of it when she was not buried in her classwork.

By the time she finished her mental musings and occasionally staring out the window at the dimly-lit expanse of the roadside, the hoverbus pulled up in front of the bar appropriately named the ShipYard on the outskirts of Storm Lake. Because it was the first stop on the military hoverbus line, the spot became a favorite place to hang out for the cadets from MMB.

The area around the front door always smelled of sick and urine. Uhura pinched close her nose with her thumb and forefinger and walked gingerly into the vestibule. She gave the soles of her boots a vigorous swipe across the floor mats.

Inside the ShipYard, the music pulsed loudly. Her group chose a table, thankfully, far from the speaker system but near enough to be in close proximity to the bar.

The ShipYard was miraculously well appointed for a place that was always in threat of a full-blown bar fight. All monies that poured in from the nearby base made all its reincarnations possible.

Ra, you lost." "You're first on deck to order the drinks," said cadet Sterling as he slid some credits across the table to her. Uhura took the drink orders and the money and headed to the bar. As she swept past the tables, she said her hellos to a few people she knew. Her long black hair swayed to and fro behind her, animating her movements.

She wasn't long at the bar when she was approached. "That's a lot of drinks for one woman." The guy leaned forward so that he could be seen past the enormous head of the Sengi male that sat between them. He made his first move to buy her drink but she countered by indicating that she was buying her own drink. She could tell he was a local. There was no doubt of his blond-haired good looks and that he knew it. In his blue eyes there was a wildness and determination. What wasn't clouded by the booze. If he could channel that in some other means, he might just account for something. She clearly showed her annoyance.

James T. Kirk was a little buzzed but that did not affect his radar. He had noticed the female cadet when she had stepped up to the bar. She was beautiful. When he had finished inspecting all her attributes, he opened the conversation by commenting on her drink order. He tried to offer to pay for her drink and only had gotten her last name when he had given her, his.

Undaunted, he moved up beside her at the bar. Instinctively, he leaned on the bar and slightly shifted his posture so that he threw his hips forward. He gave her no doubt of his intentions.

Since it was obvious that she was a cadet from Starfleet, he used that to further the conversation. "So you're a cadet. You're studying. What is your focus?"

"Xenolinquistics. You have no idea what that means, do you?" She said it with the intention of her words to be cutting.

He measured his response to not only to impress her but also to inject a sexual connotation into their conversation.

"The study of alien languages, morphology, phonology, syntax..." "It means you have a talented tongue?" He looked in her eyes then to her mouth.

_He let his mind wander a bit as he imagined the movement of her tongue as alien words slipped freely from them. Then he would let his mouth press onto hers as she was engaged in a sexually-induced moan. Stifling it, his tongue would then sink deeper into her wanting mouth. Thus pleasing her and himself with his prowess._

A smug grin spread onto this face when he saw that she was amused and appeared to be flirting with him although her response was toward his possible proclivity with farm animals.

He was getting through to her when a mountain in a cadet's uniform walk up and addressed her.

"This townie is not bothering you, right?" She gave her affirmative but assured the cadet that she could handle Kirk. Kirk could not help himself from replying to her in a way of continuing the seduction, ignoring the fact that the other cadet would be privy to it.

His voice was low and smoky with words dripping with sex. "You can handle me and that's an invitation."

This time the larger man addressed Kirk directly, with a bit of forewarning to his tone. "You better mind your manners."

Kirk didn't.

"Relax, Cupcake, it was a joke." He knew it wasn't.

Now the male cadet was on full boil and clapped onto the arm of Kirk's jacket, spinning him around to face the cadet's full wrath. By this time four other cadets joined him.

"FarmBoy." The cadet glared down at him. "Maybe you can't count but there is one of you and five of us." He pointed to his compatriots.

Not knowing whether Kirk felt he had a death wish or it was just plain stupidity, he was quick with a retort, to further enrage the cadet.

"If you get more men, then it will be an even fight." He lightly patted the side of the cadet's face.

It was now that Kirk wished he could have taken back what he had said or had the ability to stop time. The cadet's fist landed at the side of Kirk's jaw causing Kirk to spin around the other way.

"Guys stop!" He heard Uhura yell to the other cadets. But he wasn't banking on her being able to halt the action that was enfolding. It did alert everyone in the bar that a fight was imminent. They began to watch attentively and were at the ready to move out of the way of the flying objects or bodies.

Being survival-hardened, Kirk turned around to survey the situation. He was not beneath eye-gouging, giving a well-placed kick to the groin, biting, or making an advantageous use of a bottle or a chair.

Cupcake lunged at him again. This time, Kirk dished out some payback, causing Cupcake to fly over a table. He was amazed at the amount of lift the guy had for one so big. _"What a lightweight,"_ he thought.

The second cadet struck at him but Kirk blocked both blows and returned a punch.

The third cadet, on the other hand, outmatched him. This cadet delivered a kick and then a blow followed. The force caused Kirk to grab onto anything in his way to keep himself on his feet. Delightfully, it caused him to grope Uhura's chest with both of his hands. He looked at her with a goofy and pleased expression on his face. She expelled him quickly with both hands, pushing him, unintentionally back into harm's way, to be struck by the second cadet. The third cadet grabbed onto Kirk's arms to try to constraint him while the fourth cadet kicked at him. When the fourth cadet was in mid swing, when Kirk shifted his body so that the third cadet was the recipient of the blow. With a bottle within reach, Kirk grabbed the bottle and smashed it over the head of the fourth cadet. Shards of glass flew through the air.

"Enough." He heard again from Uhura with obvious distress in her voice. He was concerned that she was too dangerously close to the swinging of fists.

He could not shake the third cadet. The guy hit him solidly, causing him to fall to the floor. The cadet was not going to relinquish his advantage. He lifted Kirk by his jacket and planted him onto a tabletop so hard that it almost knocked the wind out of him. The glass from the floor clung to his face. The cadet inflicted punishing blows to Kirk's face, blooding the cadet's fist. He was about to deliver the final blow to render Kirk unconscious or into the next world when the shrill of a three note whistle pierced the air through the bar. The cadet released him like he was a rag doll.

Time did stop. Everyone froze in their spot and everything momentarily was silenced. Kirk lamented on how he could have used this intervention from a higher power, a few minutes ago. All eyes were drawn to a distinquished, older man with an air of no nonsense, in a smoky gray uniform, who entered the space.

Kirk continued to lie across the table. The pain throughout his body would not allow him to move. So he continued to view the man from upside down. His head was beginning to pound, now that the alcohol and adrenaline were leaving his system.

"Outside. All of you." "Now," were the words that came from the man, Kirk knew was used to giving orders and having them done expeditiously. There were some "Yes sirs" when the flurry of those in red, swiftly left.

The sternness on the senior officer's face changed to keen interest when he cocked his head to one side then the other to look down at Kirk. "Are you alright, son?" His fatherly concern finally prompted Kirk to lift his sore body from the indignity of lying across the top of the table.

He resettled a chair at the table and sat down. The officer remained behind when the bar had emptied, talking to the proprietor of the ShipYard to smooth over the situation involving his cadets. When he was done, he took a chair for himself and sat down opposite Kirk.

Kirk's mouth was dry except for the salty taste of his own blood and sweat. He lifted his hand to inspect it then held up an empty glass to indicate to somebody behind the bar that he wanted another drink. "Bud, please."

No bones were broken or any loss of teeth. He had weathered such punishment from early age and on so he knew the drill all too well. Apply ice, then heat and dermal mend to all of his cuts. His life had become all too familiar.

The officer pointed this out by lecturing him on his lack of focus and that he could do better.

"Your aptitude tests are off the charts, so what is it? You like being the only genius level repeat offender in the mid-west?"

This was not how Kirk would have thought he would have been spending his evening, being subjected to an impromptu recruiting pitch, in the company of an older man who was bringing up old ghosts, namely his father, George Kirk.

His father, an officer at Starfleet and Acting Captain of the starship the _U.S.S. Kelvin_ had died after an altercation with an unknown entity just moments after Kirk's birth, thus saving him and his mother as well as 800 other members of the crew. Not having known his father, his father loomed large and did not ever seem real to him.

Though he had been hit in the gut several times during the course of his physical encounter with the cadets and being shot down by the pretty cadet, that pain was nothing compared to what this officer, who had introduced himself as Captain Christopher Pike, was inflicting.

He did not like being compared to his dead father. It brought up all his shortcomings, most of which had been pointed out at him at nauseum by that bastard that married his mother.

Pike wanted him to join Starfleet because of the shared Kirk name. This was not the usual recruiting inducement by getting a free education or seeing the world. No, Pike dared him to do better than his father.

Without deference to the man's age or rank, Kirk cut him off by asking him if he was done.

Pike had gotten up to leave but before he did he told Kirk that a new recruits shuttle was leaving the Riverside shipyard at 0800 hours in the morning.

***

Captain Pike was relieved to see Kirk ride up beside the shuttle on his hoverbike. All the kid needed was some structure and some discipline. Maybe a kick in the backside once in a while, too.

He sat down in the flight chair of the shuttle and strapped himself in. Before he tapped in the flight plan on the console, he ran his hand through his coarse, graying hair. Though there were ever-deepening lines mapping his face, Pike could not mask the youthful twinkle in his eyes.

His mission had a very successful outcome with his recruitment of Kirk and being pleased with the progress with the _Enterprise_. The work on her was ontime and on budget. He would still have to make several trips back to the Riverside shipyard for more progress reports.

Starfleet had made the _Enterprise_ his baby and he was going to be a proud papa.

When she was near completion, he would have to bring his tentative bridge crew and engineering with him so they can get to know her.

Of the one thing he was certain, was whom he wanted as his Number One. A Vulcan, correction, half-Vulcan named Lt. Commander Spock. The kid was unexpectedly, a recruiter's wet dream. He had passed up the chance to attend the Vulcan Science Academy to attend Starfleet. He far exceeded expectations, breaking records to boot. He had graduated with honors and was on the fast track to being a Commander and no doubt, Captain.

But there were two integral skill sets the humanoid lacked. One was that he held too steadfast onto rules and regulations, probably due to his strict Vulcan upbringing. It hindered his ability to react quickly to what he considered illogical.

That is where Kirk comes in. He would have to throw the two together. Maybe they could learn from each other. When Pike recalled seeing the boy lying as a heap on a bar table, he knew instinctively how they would get on. _"They are going to hate each other." _He laughed in his head when he envisioned the two meeting for the first time. He would have to wait for the right time.

The other skill, although not apparent at first to its importance, was the need for first class interpersonal skills with the study of the subtleties of alien and human idioms.

In the future, as Captain, Spock may need to comfort a dying crew-mate or break the tension between two warring factions. Spock, currently lack this polish.

Pike may have to get Spock a tutor if the tutor can warm up to that cool Vulcan facade of his. Maybe he will employ Lieutenant Hawkins to the task since they may be working together on the _Enterprise_.

But as Pike readied tor take off his thoughts took a more worried path. He sighed heavily. Other than recruitment, there was retainment. Spock was being pressured by Ambassador Sarek, his Vulcan father, to mend bridges between the two and return to Vulcan, to attend the Science Academy. With a little persuasion from his human mother, Amanda Grayson, he just may cave.

Starfleet was already throwing everything they could to keep the Vulcan engaged. They assigned him to program the test simulator with the working title of Kobayashi Maru. Pike believed it would also help if there were more Vulcans at Starfleet but Starfleet was dragging its feet in bureaucratic red tape. They believed, as well as the Vulcan Council, to take a wait and see attitude.

He had invested a lot in the kid but he was also emotionally attached to him, in a fatherly way. Spock needed something to bond him here to Starfleet. Pike would crawl over broken glass or break some rules to keep him here. He hoped the _Enterprise_ would be enough of an incentive. If not, he will find out what would.

"_Oh Gawd!" It's the farmBoy,"_ Nyota thought when she saw the guy from the night before, on the shuttle. She had forgotten his name but she could remember that he was hellbent on discovering her first name. He must have some other talent than picking up women and getting into an occasional bar fight. He was going to Starfleet.

She grinned at him as he sat down, and was thankful that there were no free seats beside her. _"Damn! Why did I have to smile at him like that."_ The last thing she needed was to be chatted up during the whole flight. It wasn't that she was expressing an interest. It was that when she saw him, she had to suppress herself from wanting to laugh that the guy had the balls to call Cadet Patterson, 'Cupcake'. Now every time she will see Patterson, she will think of him now as 'Cupcake'. This guy, who when he had boarded the shuttle saluted mockingly at the guys who had given him a pounding the night before, was cocky and fearless. An obvious trait needed at Starfleet. But not for her.

On the other hand, she was thinking differently about the man, co-pilot Rodriquez dragged forcefully out of the relief module. Lieutenant Rodriquez let him know with no uncertain terms that she would make him sit down if he did not do so. He complied but still showed much irritation.

Though his flaring eyes and ferocious mouth were his most dominant features, he possessed a ruddy handsomeness and dark hair that appealed to her. She waited for the moment for his face to settle to check him out better. That didn't come. He must have felt he was being studied because for a nano second he interrupted his tirade to look in her direction. Blessed with quick reflexes, she dropped her eyes within a hair's breath of a Corellian fairy, before their eyes could meet. His face return to resembling that of a Tytec land mine field when addressing the farmboy, he sat beside. She figured that any little comment would set off little explosions of kick-ass fury to that visage. For a split second, she felt sorry for the native Iowan, to be sitting next to him. Only just.

She liked the slightly older and ascerbically-natured man already. A smile formed on her lips. For her tastes, she liked a man that was strong, mature and wrapped inside of an enigma.

Doctor Leonard McCoy could feel the sense of panic rush through his blood stream. He did not like being in a confined space, sharing the air with so many that he hadn't first done a complete medical workup on. Being a doctor had made him a raging hypochondriac. Suddenly, he felt very itchy and wanted to lose his cookies. He had already thrown up, in the john, the pills he had taken to relieve his fear of flying. He was not happy that his ex-wife had reduced him to his current state of poverty.

The bile was bubbling up in belly. He made the possibility its final destination known to the guy sitting just right of him. "I might just throw up on you."

The younger guy tried to calm him down but unknowingly to the kid, venting was McCoy's remedy.

It was not appealing to Kirk to have his first introduction to the Starfleet Academy to be with a lapful of sick. He was hoping the man was not good to his word on this instance.

The guy reminded Kirk of the many gin-soaked personalities he had befriended, over the years in bars. But instead of a mid-west accent, he detected a definite southern accent. Kirk was feeling more at home already.

In a clipped voice, Pike spoke over the comm system. "Good morning, everyone." "I am your pilot, Captain Pike." "Secure all loose articles in the storage compartments above you and fasten your seat belts securely. We will be taking off shortly"

The engine of the shuttle idled for a few minutes before there was a wheesh-whoosh sound indicating lift off. It made a quick ascent upwards into the air.

Pike was on the comm again. "Folks, if you look out the port side, that is the left side for those who do not know, you will see the hull of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_. The soon-to-be addition to the Federation's Constitution-class starships." He tilted the shuttle slightly so the ship could be seen through the shuttle's port-holes.

Kirk hoped this maneuver would not cause the man he would now call 'Bones' to lose control over his bodily functions. Kirk also, cursed to himself that from his seat he could only see a small snippet of the ship.

He then made a silent promise to himself._ " Baby, the next time I see you, I will be inside you."_ Why was he was such a hounddog? He really needed to stop doing that. But that would be difficult almost like not breathing.

**A/N: Please review if you like, but no pressure. Just enjoy. If you do, let me know if I am doing an okay job.**


	2. The Ground Beneath

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Star Trek, Paramount, or Viacom. I paid homage to Spock TOC through a literary work not of my own.**

**A/N: There is some Spock goodness in this chapter.**

**Pardon me in advance for any grammatical errors or misspelling. If it gets to be a problem, I will employ the services of a beta reader. If anyone would like to volunteer, let me know.**

**Also forgive me if I do anything that is not canon. I try to research as best as I can. I like making thing's up to fit my story.**

**San Francisco Stardate 2255:**

From the sky, the Starfleet Academy's campus shared the shape of its logo form as much as the San Francisco's coastline would allow. At the north end was the upwardly thrusting arm of a star with the remaining two bottom star points to the East and West. The center of the campus sparkled from the reflective waters of a star-shaped pool. Roads and pathways radiated outwardly, connecting foot and vehicle traffic to the quad, the administration buildings, military housing and the flight hangers.

The most prominent building from above and on the ground was Westerlund 1Hall. Stairs that lead up to its front doors, streamed with cadets of all forms and diversities, making their way to and from class lectures. The hall's entire south facing wall was a collection of earthquake-proof glass, admitting sunlight the full day and an impressive view of the stars at night when weather permitted.

Starfleet was resplendent architecturally but it also shone brightly at recruiting the best. And like its nearest neighbor, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Starfleet Academy was a bridge. Not connecting land masses but joining Earth to the stars, bringing together new life forms and new civilizations.

***

Only beneath the terra of San Francisco, reminded Spock of his home planet of Vulcan. The seismic movement, though imperceptible to humans unless above 3 on the moment magnitude scale, ironically, steadied him. It and his meditations kept his emotions in check.

Deep emotions were always present in the Vulcan psyche though buried deep within. Before the acceptance of the philosophies and teachings of the 4th century Vulcan, Surak, the emotions of his people matched the volatility of their planet. Fire in the souls of Vulcans nearly caused the extinction of the species.

Earth, the home planet of his mother, was calming. The fog was burning off in the heavy and oxygen-ladened air.* It still lingered up in the hills of Mount Davidson as Spock ran up, his feet pounding the ground in a force march. The pack on his back and the humidity cause him to lose more fluids than if he was doing the same workout in the dry, intense heat on Vulcan. He was soaked to the skin, forcing his t-shirt to cling to his lean, muscular chest. The physical exertion made the rising green tinge of his skin look ever more vulcan. His breath was heavy. Too heavy. He expanded his chest to take in more of the cool, early morning air.

With his usual efficiency, Spock used the time to condition his mind as well. Instead of computing the mathematical constant of Pi and indentifying the local fauna around him, he recited mentally a poem he knew by rote by Lord Byron:

_She walks in beauty, like the night _

_Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_

_And all that's best of dark and bright _

_Meet in her aspect and her eyes:_

_Thus mellowed to that tender light _

_Which heaven to gaudy day denies._

_One shade the more, one ray the less, _

_Had half impaired the nameless grace_

_Which waves in every raven tress, _

_Or softly lightens o'er her face;_

_Where thoughts serenely sweet express _

_How pure, how dear their dwelling place._

_And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, _

_So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,_

_The smiles that win, the tints that glow, _

_But tell of days in goodness spent,_

_A mind at peace with all below, _

_A heart whose love is innocent!_

His heart, residing near the location of his liver, in his Vulcan anatomy, began to ache. His logic wanted to believe it was his body's aerobic need for more oxygen, but he knew it was something else. It was from a place in him, more undeniably human.

***

Uhura was back on the ground. The shuttle's arrive time was almost the same time they had left Iowa because of the time difference.

The walls of Starfleet Hanger 1 rocked from the continuous takeoffs and landings of flight vehicles over head. Each passing ship caused her hair to sweep up around her. The air smelled of exhaust and the slightly noxious fumes given off by the electronics throughout. When she collected her gear at the receiving station, she had managed to avoid Kirk's continuing advances due to the fact that new recruits, not properly outfitted, were partitioned off to another part of hanger.

She looked down at her military issued PADD as she swiftly strode to a transport vehicle. On its screen, notified her of her quarters assignment. The global positioning software gave her a 3-dimentional, real-time map of its location. It also designated that her roommate had indicated her arrival.

Her roommate was sitting on the floor, tearing open boxes of her things when Uhura entered through to their shared rooms. The first things anyone would notice about her, before any words were spoken, were her hair, the color of red-baked sunset and her skin, green and translucent like that of Uranium glass.

From her studies of Federation humanoids, Uhura guessed that she was Orion but without the black hair. She had never seen an Orion before, male or female.

Uhura spoke a few words of an Orion greeting, hoping it had the proper inflection of neutrality. Incorrectly spoken, the sexually aggressive language could have you okaying yourself into slavery or agreeing to a threesome. Neither Uhura wanted.

She spoke slowly and deliberately. _"Hello, my name is Nyota Uhura. What is your name?"_ The girl stood up and stretched her legs due to sitting too long on the floor. Her broad smile was a stark contrast against her green skin. In her Orion tongue, she replied, _"Hi, I am Galia. You speak Orion. I know that can be difficult. We can speak Standard, if you like?"_

"Wasn't sure at first if you were Orion. Your hair? I like it," Uhura replied, relieved.

Galia also switched to Standard. "Thanks. Most Orion's hair is dark. Occasionally, there will be ones like me. Unfortunately for me but luckily for others, due to my hair color, I have a low pheromone count. So unlike my dark-haired sisters, I am not a threat to sexually enslave the local male population or cause headaches to other competing females. It does, let me attend to my education when my nature doesn't take over." She smirked and playfully flung back her hair.

"Do you have a boyfriend? Galia asked her, sounding a little too interested. Uhura's first impression is to like Galia but she was not sure she would have her guy around her even if she had one. "No, not at the moment." Uhura wished she was absolutely sure she hadn't agreed to a threesome.

***

Uhura rubbed her eyes and then massaged her temple. She dosed herself with a cup of really strong coffee, letting the taste, the aroma and the steam steep into her thoughts.

Her first week of classes had been a blur of orientations, lectures, and meetings with her advisors and teachers.

She leaned back in her chair in the research center and sighed. It was late and she was suffering from a recurring bout of insomnia. It was something that came on when she was in a new place, under new stresses. Galia's talking in her sleep and having already too many frequent visits from male cadets didn't help either.

Uhura could almost envy Galia's ability to tell a guy she loved him then move on to the next one, unaffected. She observed that it was a peculiar trait, but necessary to an Orion. To use love as a form of entrapment. She was not like Galia.

**A/N: * From my understanding, to Spock, the higher elevations on Earth would still have air heavier than Vulcan. I have been reading elsewhere that Vulcan is more mountainous than Earth and with thinner air.**

**Also, it appears, in the movie that, Vulcans worship internally, inside their planet. So this is why I have Spock grounded by what happens under the ground.**


	3. Safety Behind Four Walls and a Ceiling1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Star Trek, Paramount, or Viacom. **

**A/N: This was part of much longer chapter. The second part involves Spock and it is not where I want it yet so I decided to post it as a two-parter.**

**Caution there is some strong language. But not too much.**

**Sorry I had taken a long time to update. I had other passions to take me away from this fanfic. And if you had read my other stories, you already know that, I like to take my time.**

**Those Who Would Be Among the Stars**

**Safety Behind Four Walls and a Ceiling, part 1**

**San Francisco Stardate 2256:**

Nyota, momentarily, diverted her attention from the scattered but related collection of things on her desk, to stare randomly into space. Her focus, not on any one object in particular, was aimed inwardly. Pensively, she lightly squeezed her bottom lip with the thumb, forefinger and index finger of her left hand then released it to rest her chin on her closed hand.

"_Shake it off, girl! Focus!" _She roused herself out of her funk and continued to itemize the contents of her bag.

Fingering the screen lock on her PADD, she put the device into sleep mode to freeze the last actions its owner had imposed on it, translating the language of Argelian. She slipped it into her bag.

She was restless.

There would be three more long-drawn-out years until she would graduate and sport the insignia of an officer. If all goes according to plan, at the end of her sojourn at Starfleet, she would also take her place as one of the crew on board the _U.S.S. Enterprise_.

When she felt like this, the partially constructed vessel became a fixture in her mind's eye. A beckoning reminder. Its form, she had seen on a daily basis from the windows of the military barracks during her stint at basic training in Iowa. It had gotten her through that; it will get her through this.

"_Visualize it, Nyota," _she prodded herself, mentally.

Through closed eyes to reestablish the vision, her pupils, under her lids, darted over the darkened and incomplete innards of the ship that would eventually be the corridors she would ambulate though.

Once her eyes had opened again, she instinctively glanced over at the digital chronometer on her desk. Its numerical face read 07:43 for the time and 09:20:2256 for the date.

Nyota was now awashed with nervousness, generating from a dull wave in the pit of her stomach as another term year was starting.

To counter the newness of another academic year, it had put her at her ease that after their first year together as roommates, she and Galia had requested and had been approved to remain as roommates. Being in close proximity with Galia, the Orion had become one of her closest friends.

She comforted herself at the familiarity of their shared accommodations by glancing through and around the glass partition that separated the study area from the sleeping area.

The baked sand-colored walls had cubbies already bursting with their collective belongings. Though the women were somewhat neat, the top of each assigned bedside drawers held holos of family and friends; assorted knick-knacks and a catchall jumble of hair ornaments and jewelry. The windows at the head of the beds let in some sunlight but lamps were still needed even in midday.

"_Oh!"_ She thought sarcastically, _"and with a wonderful fifth-floor view of the student parking lot, below." _She trailed the thought with a droll smile.

The relaxed rules of the Academy housing were a welcomed relief from the spit-and-polish regulations of the barracks. Likely, too, the assigned quarters given to one on active duty on a starship would also be somewhat restrictive, dependent on one's rank or commission.

Currently this was to be her home. The tech-minimalistic decor of the original planned design was obliterated by their differing styles.

Galia liked the clutter of what Orions called _'b'onufee' _*, which can be translated in Standard as 'trophies' from various lovers. These were commingled with her acquisition of an eclectic mix of galactic objet d'art.

Not the ostentatiousness of Galia's tastes, Nyota's style, on the other hand, was more earthbound. More organic. She surrounded herself with tokens from her family and homeland. A music box from her Mama, playing the song her mother taught her. A marble egg from her Baba. Pillows and bedding were draped in fabrics of silk, rayon and cotton in colors of white, yellow and light blues. There was very little red because of its negative connotation to her people. She would rarely allow the color among her things with the exception of her red Starfleet uniform hanging on the refresher and anything that was officially issued. This was a color she was scarcely able to avoid at Starfleet.

In this cramped and confined space, both Nyota and Galia had reached an understanding, albeit exasperating at times.

There were rules:

Galia's rules for her:

1. You must not tell me that you are ready to leave the bar because you have an early class in the morning.

_(I know that may be annoying to Galia. She knows my schedule, too well. She ought to have known that.)_

2. You should not take any of my chocolates.

_(I am guilty. Her connection, with the Orion traders, scores her the best chocolates, ever!!!! I think she might be using them in her 'sexcapades'.) _

3. I will stop flinging pillows at her when she is talking in her sleep.

_(Only if she finishes telling, in her sleep, what happen between her and Cadet Resignac. Better than a romance novel.)_

Her rules for Galia:

1. Do not use my brush or comb.

(_I know when she does. Her red hair gives her away all the time.)_

2. No more men in our room.

_(I know that she has been sneaking them in when I am not here. She just seems too interested in my schedule and those creepy copulation idols over her bed, look too damn happy.)_

3. There is some jerk pestering me. If he does find out you are my roommate, he may ask you my first name, please do not give it to him.

_(Kirk is a genuine, a**hole and he knows it.) _ Nyota rolled her eyes.

Nyota continued to busy herself before she was to leave for her first class. Galia, a slowpoke, was still in front of her mirror, dressing herself, taking great care with the placement of each curl of her tresses and the strategic application of perfume to all of her erogenous zones.

Galia's perfume was full of pheromones to make up for her own biological deficit. To Nyota, it was very pungent. She likened it to licorice — an aroma you can almost taste as well as smell.

Less purposeful in her regimen, Nyota had flung her hair up into a simple ponytail on top of her head. During the day, a tendril or two would slip free to fall onto her face, to be promptly swept back in place with a slick of pomade. Her scent, a perfumed infusion of jasmine and rose, bought when she was home in Africa; she applied behind each ear and to her wrists. But there was one thing she would give the most attention to — her earrings. They were usually teardrop-shaped, made from some exotic materials like African glass or ceramic beads, Amber, wood or stone, that dangled from her earlobes as a reminder of back home.

There was a little shop on a city-cramped street off of Langata Road in Nairobi, Kenya. Abaya**, the shop owner, would make the earrings up to Nyota's exacting specifications. Each bead, the shape and the color, was carefully thought out as well as the choice of the clasp.

This adornment, she was able to wear under the strict uniform codes at Starfleet.

Nyota gotten up from her desk to walk through the entryway of the kitchenette, just right of the wall bearing the video screen and audio system and across from the windows. Since she was already finished getting ready, she grabbed a cup of tea, a breakfast bar and the pocket-sized portable comm unit to scan its ecto-plasticized display for articles from the _Starfleet News_ that caught her interest. She sat cross-legged on her bed, smoothed out the duvet, expanded the device until it was tripled in size and laid it down in front of her.

She scanned through the articles.

_Federation Talks with the Klingon Empire Worsens_

_Females Needed for Miners on a Mining Vessel Orbiting Antares_

The first story she read through was an interview with Captain Christopher Pike about the progress of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_. The ship was externally finished but now the inner workings were underway. It also said that some additional specialty support teams were needed to help in the completion. She ran her finger down the list until she saw Communications Tech Specialist. She tapped on the information stream at the bottom of the article, sending the pertinent information to her PADD. She also sent info for Computer Specialist to Galia's.

Would she be near the top of the heap of applicants? She hoped so. Her performance thus far, academically, had been first rate. She had already won two merit awards. One was for linguistically excellence under time trials. The other was the prestigious Omni Diplomaticus Award for diplomatic industriousness. And due to her advanced placement studies, she was already, a year ahead of some of her fellow cadets in linguistics. Even her advisor, Lieutenant Commander Sudie Nguyen, believed if she maintained her current level of study, she could easily graduate with the rank of Lieutenant.

Her parents had been pleased with her achievements. Nyota could feel the warmth of her mother's hand through the touch simulator when they had touched the video screen on the commlink unit when she told them of her successes. But there was one thing most of all that would make her mother giddy with happiness.

"_Have you met any nice boys?"_ Nyota knew that her mother wanted her to settle down. Having someone one to look out for one of her daughters. Give her more grand kids. Take her Nyota from the silly notion of wandering so far away _among the stars_.

Nyota felt a pang of an unsettled need. Her last real relationship, Brian, was a year and a half ago and she had not dated seriously, since then. It had been a perpetual battle between her heart and her ambition. The former usually won out but with Brian, it was the latter. She knew herself to be driven by her own force of nature. To a fault.

A photo caught her eye of a newly promoted officer with strikingly good looks and dark hair, cut in an unusual way. "_Bowl-shaped?"_ His eyebrows angled downwardly to eyes dark, deep and fathomless. The fluent wave camera, they used, captured his full lips, parted, possibly engrossed in conversation. She read the accompanying caption mentally to herself.

_Newly Distinguished Alumni:_

_Lieutenant Commander Spock, (_above)_ instructor of Advanced Phonology has been promoted to the rank of Commander. He had performed exceptionally in his duties as temporary Science Officer under Captain Dyer onboard the U.S.S. Lincoln. His abilities were tantamount to the successful outcome of the mission. Further details of the mission have not been disclosed. _

She recognized the name. It was one of her instructors.

"_Ooooh!_"

Her appreciation had slipped out and caught the attention of her always-perceptive roommate who in turn used an exclamation of approval in Orion when she saw the picture of the male officer.

"Who's that?!" Galia exclaimed, angling her head to look down at the screen.

"Commander Spock," Nyota replied. "I'm having him..." She stopped in mid sentence. She had to be more specific with Galia. "I mean, I am taking his Advanced Phonology class, this term."

"Lucky you."

"Not so lucky. I heard he's hard," Nyota spoke matter of factly to try to mask her possible elevation of pheromones from her roommate.

"Hmm...sounds like he can get the job done," Galia, grinned slyly.

"Shut up Gal'."

Nyota was chagrined that Galia as an Applied Sciences student could make even the binary code of 0 and 1, sexual.

Nyota slid her finger over the picture, causing it to rotate slowly. On doing so, she could see that his ears were pointed. "It looks like he's Vulcan."

"A damn fine looking one, if he is," Galia added.

She had to agree with Galia, he was very pleasing to the eyes. "_Very pleasing!" _She had not seen him in orientation. She would have remembered him. _"So, he was on active duty,"_ she surmised.

"Ny', are you going to go after him?"

"Gal', he's my teacher. He's out of bounds. Even if he wasn't, he's probably already attached or married. Most likely to a Vulcan female. And if he were single and not my teacher, there would be some real competition after him. Skillful ones like yourself." She playfully nudged Galia's shoulder. "I may not even like him."

Nyota knew Galia was half listening. She could almost sense the gears moving around in Galia's head.

"Mmmm! I wonder if he likes chocolate?"

"_Yeah, Ooo..kay."_ Logic was completely lost to her roommate when she was like this.

Nyota suddenly felt strangely territorial over her soon-to-be teacher. She quickly shifted the readout to the next page.

Galia lingered, continuing to look down at the screen. "Cute dog!" She said pointing to a picture of a dog on that page.

It was a lost dog notice. "Yeah, some Admiral had lost a beagle," proclaimed Nyota.

_*** b'onufee **_**—****I made this Orion word up.**

**** ****Abaya — I made this African name up.**

**A/N: Pardon me, if I get something's wrong. I tried to research as much as possible. I have never been to Africa, so I am trying to get it right.**

**I am attempting to keep some science fiction, in this story, so I had made up some possible technology that would be used in the future. There are no such devices as a fluent wave camera or an expandable comm unit in any canon literature for ST, as far as I know. It would be cool, though.**


	4. Safety Behind Four Walls and a Ceiling2

**A/N: Here is the second part of the two-parter that I had promised involving Spock.**

**There is a reference to some Shakespeare. Just a little. There is no test after.**

**Safety Behind Four Walls and a Ceiling, part 2**

**San Francisco Stardate 2256:**

"At ease, Mr. Spock," Captain Pike spoke as Spock entered his office to resume their regularly scheduled briefings. Pike had not seen the young man since the officer's return from his three months' mission. Circumstances had overextended his absence a couple of weeks. His first officer had grown paler and thinner but still looked vigorous. _" Julie would want to feed him."_

The 6 foot 1 Vulcan ceased from standing at attention with hands clasped behind his back in response to the order. As always, even in repose, Spock was the epitome of military correctness. His back was ramrod straight. Every crease of his gray Commander's uniform was pressed to knife-edge precision. Pike had no doubt that the shine of Spock's boots would also meet inspection standards.

"Let me offer my congratulations on your promotion," Pike said as he nodded his head to the Vulcan. "It's much deserved."

With his right hand made useless from its usual function in offering a congratulatory handshake or a pat on the back, Pike instead waved Spock to a chair in his office. "It's good to see you are back safe and sound after such a taxing mission. And that you are well."

Spock sat down in one of the two chairs.

"Thank you, Captain."

There was no change in Spock's demeanor. No beaming pride at being acknowledged for his achievement. Not did Pike expected to see any. His first officer, as usual, proceeded to give a summation of all of his reports.

"Captain. Chief Engineer Olsen has prepared a data requisition form needing your approval for the dilithium crystal requirements for the Enterprise. He suggests a 1.7 metric ton load is recommended as reserve supply." Spock placed the encrypted Federation-issued PADD on the desk in front of his commanding officer.

Spock pointed to its data screen. "I have also included statistics for possible payload distributions throughout the ship. I would remind you that Aratec Corporation has sent testable phasers banks. They await a scheduled testing time at the Bonneville Salt Flats Ammunitions Testing Center."

After a fifteen-minute exchange, the briefing was wrapping up.

"Up to your usual efficiency, I see. Good job at getting back up to speed. I would impose on you further." Pike said as he handed Spock a PADD.

"Mr. Spock, a fresh crop of applications has made their way to my desk. I would like your invaluable assistance in evaluating their merits and choosing the ones that you feel would best serve each position."

"Affirmative, Captain."

"If there is nothing more." Pike shrugged, questioningly. "...a need to talk...uhh...get anything off your chest? If not, you are excused."

Spock rose halfway then sat back down. "Captain, I do wish to speak with you on certain matter."

"What can I do for you, son?" As soon as Pike said the word 'son', he saw the almost instantaneous, infinitesimal movement to the left eyebrow of the young man. Other than that small gesture Spock's entire stature was a practice of Vulcan formality. It amused Pike to get even that small reaction.

He wondered what words, if any, could rock that entire face. Even Spock's drill instructor in basic training, red-faced, hoarse and intimidated, must had given up in frustration.

"Open up, Sir," Pike directed to Spock as he crossed his arms over his chest and sat on the edge of his desk. He leaned back with legs crossed, waited with bated breathe at what Spock had to reveal.

"I had complied with the _implied_ directive to issue any pertinent information about my promotion for my dossier at Starfleet." Spock hesitated.

"I understand, please go on."

"This information had been released to the latest issue of the _Starfleet News_. I wish to ascertain the relevance of publishing news of my promotion to the military press. I am not aware of the procedural change in policy. As my advisor was this issued through you?"

Pike straightened up to circle back around to his chair. "This is good publicity, Spock. You shouldn't worry-"

"Worry is not a emotion that pertains to my species. Is this publicity obligatory?

"No. Publicity is merely an adjunct to making it as an officer in Starfleet. It makes you stand out."

"Vulcans do not see the need of such differentiation. Whether it is compulsory or not, would not such exercise bring on the need for continuing self-promotion. Thus defining the achievement by it being repackaged into a commodity more palatable.

"To whom?" Pike pressed.

"That would be in flux and dependent to the whom it would be addressed to.

"Then you would propose a rigid ideal?" It was still weird to Pike that some things fundamentally human were useless or even thought of as banal to Vulcans. "Spock, I know that being Vulcan that you are reticent about such things."

"On the contrary, Captain. It is merely that it would be illogical to reveal what is unnecessary."

Pike had his hackles up.

"'_a need to know basis' is what he was actually saying?"_ To Pike, Spock was objecting to being 'humanized' even though he is half human. He would not have found that out if it were not for his indirect sources.

"Commander, do you know of the 'band of brothers'."

There was no hesitation in the Vulcan.

"Sir, do you speak of the passage from William Shakespeare's play, _Henry V_ or the 21st century tele series on Earth's television broadcast?"

"The play," Pike responded, trying not to sound curt.

Spoken with a timbered voice representative of one on the stage but lacking the emotionality, Spock recited the passage verbatim from act IV scene iii of the play:

'And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remembered-

We few, we happy few, we _band of brothers_;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother'

"You _know_ of it, good. Though Henry the V, as king, could not be anymore culturally different than the men he fought beside, he rallied them by making them feel they would die as equals. Ludicrous though that may be."

"In previous plays, Henry the V was inaccurately portrayed as 'undisciplined' but historically he was also considered ruthless. Are these actions you wish for me to emulate, Captain?"

This was Spock's closest attempt at levity. Pike could not help to grin, reservedly at this. Spock and King Henry, though, did seem to share a similar taste in haircut.

"You are not coalescing my meaning. Regardless of his true intent, Henry the V did it to establish a bond. To do so would give either party knowledge of the weaknesses or strengths of the other. Crucial in command.

"Duly noted." This all the response Pike had nudged free from Spock.

They were at an impasse.

"_Patience with the lad, Pike"_

"No, Commander. I was not the one that submitted the news of your promotion to the _Starfleet News_. It must have been Captain Dyer. He had such glowing reports about you. I may have to be on my guard that he does not procure my first officer."

Pike continued. "Dyer had not divulged any details of what conspired on your mission. High ups in the Federation have put a complete lock down all information.

Pike, at the rank of Captain, had a sneaking suspicion of why it was such hush-hush. He pushed the thought out of his mind and was thankful that he had not been involved. But he was still curious. He knew Spock would tell him nothing. In this case, his discretion was warranted.

At that moment, the video commlink toned an incoming call. Pike checked ID pad to see whom it was from.

" I must take this. We must finish this some other time. Dismissed, Mr. Spock."

"Aye, Captain. Spock had gotten up and left Pike's office.

Once on the other side of the door, Spock felt the need to be with his _own_ kind. Then he would no longer feel he was their sole representative. To be so guarded.

From the mission, he had now one new confidential matter he had to protect. His mind flashed back 1 month, 2 days, 3 hours, 4 minutes, zero seconds.

_The duocorder* gave off a faint but ominous sound that Spock had never heard from it before, even in training. inc.....inc.....inc..... He wondered if it was malfunctioning. It only seems to register that emittance when aimed at the dead body of the missing member of the freighter. It increased its frequency as Spock had gotten nearer to the body. inc..inc..inc..inc.._

"_Captain, we seem to have a problem other than the demise of this individual."_

_Captain Dyer's face and build was short and stoutish, closely resembling Napoleon Bonaparte depicted in the paintings from Earth's history. Spock was soon to find out that Dyer shared the same tactical acumen of the historic figure._

_When Dyer looked at the reading on the device, it was the first time Spock had seen a human's face go completely white, drained of blood even through the visor of his bio suit. Seeing this caused his own copper-based blood to chill._

_*** According to , the tricorder was first incorporated at Starfleet in the 2260s. I am using the duocorder as a previous generation.**_

_**A/N: **_**Thanks HaleyJo, Botsey, kendrat199 and Carshall for your invaluable reviews. I will try to curtail some of my excessive comma usage. I am aware that I do dump a lot of data in my writing. I have to admit, I am an 'informational junkie'. That will be hard to break.**

**Thanks to all who had subscribed to this story or to me as an author. Much appreciated. **

**Nyota and Spock will soon meet.**

**Kirk and Bones will also make reappearance soon.**

**I love how some other authors have written the tussle between Spock and Pike. I thought I would do the same in this second parter. I had taken inspiration from the movie when Spock said that the complexity of Human pranks escaped him to Captain Pike when Pike had made Kirk first officer.**


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